Puppet
by LittleSocket
Summary: A different take on the fight scene of Transformers: Prime's Season 2 "Nemesis Prime" What happens when M.E.C.H. have some extra tricks up their sleeve? Nemesis x Optimus. Sticky.


Optimus struggled but felt weak. Normally he would blame it on the extensive drive to the site or the lack of energon supply back at base but to feel such fatigue in the middle of battle was unnatural. His fight with the manmade imposter was intense, its body matched his own perfectly and their equal strength made it difficult to determine who had the higher ground- that was until Optimus' systems began to lag and his limbs and joints began to feel weighted more than desired at such a critical time.

Their bodies had been forced against one another at first, caught in an even pressure as blades scraped against the opponent's locking them firmly where they stood. But it was MECH's creation that had suddenly tipped the scales in his favour as the proclaimed 'Nemesis Prime' unleashed a specialized modification that the true Prime had not expected. The warnings of an intrusion pinged in the processor of the Autobot Leader and it was then when he realized why he had suddenly become so lethargic. The electric blue of his optics directed down to his chassis where the slew of invading tendrils seeped out of the metal plating of the maroon mech and attached themselves into the Prime's networks.

"It seems the neurological override program works flawlessly." The dark mech announced proudly as Optimus' large frame slumped over; the sentient of the two cringing under his facemask with displeasure as he was forced to prop himself up against his corrupt counterpart lest he tumble to the hard ground in an unglorified defeat. Their close proximity allowing the effective cables to remain intact and keep the true Prime incapacitated further.

"I'm sure you're wondering how extensively we've studied your makeup." The voice was deep and matched Optimus' vocals perfectly. It was his voice yet- not quite. Nemesis spoke more casually, arrogantly, in a way the blue and red mech did not mirror; they were the same but so very different. Optimus could do nothing to push away from the form that he leaned upon as it spoke; full frame reduced to nothing but strained quivers as his processor screamed at his own body trying to override the malicious program that had gotten inside.

"Come now." Was the only words before Optimus watched his own arm raise to brace himself on Nemesis' shoulder armor. He stared at it in stunned disbelief as if it had just been torn off; his limbs were working on their own accord now? No. The neuro-program had manipulated his body into doing what it was told and not what he had willed. The ability to freeze him in his tracks was unpleasant enough but the fact MECH was now capable of posessing the body of another with this technology was frighteningly troublesome; as long as he was connected to the imposter he had no control over his actions.

"And again." It was another command and, as if on que, Optimus' right knee joint buckled under him sending the heavy mech nearly crashing forward into the torso of the other. The altitude of where he stood began to drop and it sparked the realization that he was being gently eased down to the silo roof on which they both stood, Nemesis following suit only with such care as to prevent their connected wiring from malfucntioning.

Optimus was at a loss for words, optics darting about in a frenzy trying to track the movements of his own body as it tangled somewhat with the other mech until he was stationed to sit upon Nemesis' presented lap; windshields nearly grinding upon one another due to their forced closeness. Something in the Autobot's processor clicked without his permission and suddenly the cool night air was wafting over his exposed faceplate as the protective armor retracted back into his helm. Optimus was left with his mouth parted in surprise, optics wide as the rugged mech below dismissed his own protective covering to reveal an identical face staring right back, save for the scuffs on the cheeks where MECH hadn't properly assembled the mask's dispatching plates; leaving Nemesis' visage as haggard as the rest of him.

Golden optics bore into the cyan ones while Nemesis offered a type of sick, twisted smile.

"I was wondering how to go about testing this feature without a proper cohort. But it seems one just fell right into my lap." The words brought a frown to Optimus' lips along with the teltale prickle of static anxiety across his plating.

"I do not wish to be part of one of your sick experiments, Silas." He rumbled, "Enough have suffered by your hand. Human and Cybertronian."

"What makes you think you shall suffer through such an ordeal?" The reply was almost instant and Optimus felt his body begin to shift on its own once again, hip joints drawing ever closer to the ones below. He only had a moment to question the movements until his audio picked up the sound of armor displacing itself and following the source brought the Prime's rapid glance down to the battered pelvic joinings that had shifted to reveal a very accurate reproduction of interface equipment. The blue optics shot back up to the yellow ones in repulsion, denta barred to show his great dissatisfaction to what was being shown.

"Of course, it is far from perfect." The deepened voice purred, "It's rather hard to simulate the materials. I was concerned that it would not be up to your standards- I was curious if it could fool you for the real thing."

A mouth opened to retort but was caught unpleasantly from the sudden rush of heat affecting his core temperature as the neuro-program went to work once again; this time forcing the Prime's dormant cord to pressurize to a point of aching need below his codpiece. Optimus' intake rapidly accelerated in order to cool down his internal systems but to no avail, his desperate attempts to override the commands to open his pannels fruitless against the hack. The series of clicks and snaps and the unwanted relief of freedom washed over Optimus' sensors forced an almost profoud hum to vibrate through the very depths of his chasis.

"There. You see?" Nemesis inquired, bringing a blackened servo forward to wrap around the two exposed cords, holding them firmly together in comparison, "Nearly identical. However, I'm sure with more research I could do even better." With that, the constricting servo began to pump firmly up the length of the two sending Optimus' processor reeling at the unusual contact. After recovering from the shock of the initial gesture the Autobot made a low growl to stop; Nemesis only offered a half-smile in response.

"Your mouth says 'no', but-" Again the program brought the hijacked frame to life, silver and blue hips now rolling into the rough touch, "...your body says 'yes'." Optimus couldn't control his arms as they slid around either side of the maroon clone's neck cables, bringing him down so close that their faceplates nearly touched. The feel of heated outtake was prominent and nearly fogged the smooth metal of Optimus' face until the gap closed further and he felt a similar yet alien glossa trace the thinly pressed line of his mouth. It continued even through the rejection; Nemesis' lips scraping and slithering accross the insipid orafice in vain.

The servo working the two spikes halted abruptly to cup underneath the true Prime's waist drawing a startled gasp from the mech as a digit casually slid into the exposed port down below; using this opportunity to penetrate the oral defenses with a determined grunt, successfully invading Optimus thoroughly on both ends.

All that could be heard was the gears in Nemesis' wrist as he pulled the digit from its snug encasing only to snap it harshly back in again until nothing but the connecting knuckle was visible; over and over again it went, only being drowned slightly by the Autobot leader who groaned in protest into the imposter's fervent mouth every time his inner nodes were assaulted.

The initial resistance in the valve seemed to be gone now, intruding digit smoothly entering and exiting at a consistant speed. Nemesis withdrew it and pulled his head away from the gasping mech so he could bring his servo up for closer inspection. A slippery solution completely coated the digit in question, it was transparent and had the texture of a mucus but its most defining feature was the faint magenta glow that seemed to eminate from the alien substance. Nemesis' striking optics studied it in fascination.

"You produce your own lubricating fluids. Very good." This was new information to the manmade mech which threw Optimus into the alarming realization that his wanton secretions were real and very much intended. Raw programming drawing the transfluid forward to drip from the waiting port as he was forced to straddle the false Prime's hips.

Their chassis shifted again and Optimus was lifted higher from where he sat until the wires connecting them went taught and strained in their places. Cautiously, Nemesis pulled the hips in to align plug and port, Optimus' optics darting about in panic as the foreign thing began to trace his slicked opening.

"Please." The Autobot begged desperately, "Don't do this." But his words went unheard as his body was manipulated to sink down onto the waiting spike. Optimus' entire framework shuddered from such an invasion, denta grit to stifle a moan. He was forced to lean forward against his counterpart mocking a lover's embrace as his hips were animated and ordered to spring needily on the pressurized cord. Metal crashed against metal, black and burgundy paint chipping and swapping with the blue and silver as the two mechs clutched one another.

"It's good, isn't it?" Nemesis purred into the blue helm, unable to see the distainful scowl on Optimus' faceplate, "Just like the real thing."

The motions were quick and shallow until darkened servos clutched at the moving hip joints and forced them down hard, mirrored hips slamming upward in a violent thrust that buried the synthetic cord down to its base. Optimus howled, unable to hide the lace of satisfaction in his vocals as he cried out. Nemesis did it a few more times just to hear the Prime wail into the night, pulling out tantalizingly slow before rushing back in with maddening force. The Autobot's intake was becomming irregular, huffs mixed with groans and whines as his core temperature continued to rise without the help of the neuro-program. He felt denta on his neck cables and a painful pressure as they bit down nearly drawing energon. He locked his optics shut unable to stop the relentless pounding of his inner walls as messages began to flood his processor that he was reaching his critical levels.

The quick strokes on his port were driving him mad and at the very edge of his overload, the very pinacle of what his body could take, all movement stopped. Optimus greedily took in the evening air to cool his overheating body, fans working in a dull roar to drop the hightened temperatures in his system, the heavy charge of an oveload that was yet to occur barely tickling his circuits. Nemeisis glanced over at the ragged Prime, thumbing the hip plates tauntingly as he denied him the satisfaction of release a while longer. It was a victory for MECH any way you looked at it and it was only fair to reward the one who so graciously volunteered to assist in the testing. In one swift movement the false Prime had seized Optimus' hips and had plunged hard and deep one final time in the soaked valve.

The energized blue optics nearly rolled back in their sockets as the overload crashed his system. His entire body rattled as the hot electricity shot through every node imaginable and through to Nemesis who, in turn, glitched with the static interference briefly just enough to break the connection transferring the neuro-program into his body.

At the first sign of freedom Optimus struck the maroon bot away and rose to his feet, closing and locking all equipment, ignoring the scuffs and paint and transfluid that littered his usually well-kept plating. And as Optimus drew his blade and began his advance on the corrupt machine Silas leaned back at his command station, took up the battle controls once again, and smiled as the recording log shut down.


End file.
